Mare, Mare My Lord!
by Estavius
Summary: In order to negotiate their standings with the Slane Theocracy, Ainz sends Mare to dual the Theocracy's chosen representative in a single battle to determine superiority without mass conflict. Unfortunately for Mare, Zesshi Zetsumei is not who he expected.


**Spoiler warning! This contains spoilers for some of the contents of the NINTH volume! The main storyline/plot of this fanfiction is not in the novels (not canon), but it's a possible follow-up of an event that does (happen), and is referenced a few times. Oh god this sounds confusing. Oh well.**

 **The anime only goes up to the third volume. Please do not spoil the content for yourselves, regardless of whether the anime is getting a second season.**

Mare, Mare My Lord!

On the day Zesshi Zetsumei was needed to represent her entire country and fight the Sorcerer King, she slept in. As the extra seat in the Black Scripture, the strongest one amongst them, one of three awakened Godkin in the Slane Theocracy and the defender of the royal treasury, Zesshi was, of course, not to be taken lightly. She supposed the Sorcerer King, Ainz Ooal Gown, shouldn't either, but Zesshi wasn't worried. No matter how powerful his chants were, they were still just that: chants. Superior speed could blast away a mere magic caster. The dual would be over in a split-second, before a single spell could be unleashed.

"How had it come to a situation like this?", one might ask. It wasn't everyday that the fate of a nation was bet on a dual.

After the Sorcerer King, Ainz Ooal Gown had declared his nation's independence and military might by demolishing seventy thousand in a single spell, or so the stories said, the "country" known as Nazarick advanced to the Slane Theocracy. Rather than engage in an all-out war, the bureaucrats on top crumbled and negotiated for a one-on-one battle, a single dual to determine the country's status. Of course, a Sorcerer like that would represent themselves, of this Zesshi was sure of.

Yet the Slane Theocracy knew that if she couldn't defeat the opponent, then there was no point trying. That very scenario should have made Zesshi proud, happy, delighted in her strength to stand on top of a country. Yet she felt disappointed; there were no others who could best her, combat her, or even attempt to compete. The fact that those insufferable nobles were worried excited Zesshi, because for once in her life, she might be able to fight to her heart's content against another unstoppable foe.

The pursuit of strength motivated Zesshi; there was no better opportunity than the one presented before her. If Zesshi met the Sorcerer King on a battlefield, there would be no doubt that the both of them would be exhausted from a day's campaign of constant battle. The Sorcerer's mana supply, the resource so vital to casters, would be depleted, and like that Zesshi could not think of a single reason why she wouldn't be able to win. Without challenge, there was no fun, no entertainment. Without a risk, Zesshi didn't even have a reason to fight. It was incredibly dull to tear through the ranks of weaklings and slaughter them with the slightest swing.

Despite waking up late, Zesshi was by no means unprepared. Donned in the armor of the six gods, Zesshi had never lost. Even so, though her time was limited, she continued her warm-ups, a few dozen laps around the underground treasury's, a few hundred reps of a workout, the usual. To her dismay, Zesshi found herself breaking a light sweat after the thousandth pushup. Her time spent in negligence might cost her, but not today. If all went well, if all went _dully_ , then the battle would be over in a single blow.

"So you're actually warming up." A voice noted.

Zesshi glanced up unamused at the man who had interrupted her practice. If looks could kill, then this man, the captain of the Black Scripture, would have lost at least an arm and both legs. He wasn't entirely incompetent as a vanguard, after all.

Zesshi flipped off the ground and onto her feet in a practiced motion. "Yes?"

"Kira is dead," the captain said.

"That kid?" Zesshi asked. "Wasn't she an assassin? Really, she was too weak for the Black Scripture. Who was the target?"

"We found her body outside the hotel reserved for diplomatic relations," the captain answered. "Her target was-"

"The Sorcerer King Ainz Ooal Gown," Zesshi interrupted. "That was my prey, why did you send Kira?"

The captain visibly gulped under Zesshi's glare, yet to his credit, he continued.

"The archbishops wished for it. In any case, Kira wasn't officially a member of our forces, so we can deny any connection to us."

Zesshi sighed. "How did she die?"

"We found her on the street, with her entire upper body smashed inwards," the captain said. "Even if the target was ready, it seems too one-sided; there were no damages reported to the hotel staff, nor did any of them hear anything until Kira hit the ground from the third floor."

"So the assassin failed to assassinate," Zesshi concluded. "With the assassin's form irreversibly warped because of the magic retaliation."

"Yes, I thought you might find this information useful."

Zesshi lifted up the gigantic war-scythe that stood just as tall as her.

"Between the Sorcerer King and me, who do you think is stronger?"

"In a confined space with without preparation, you," the captain said immediately, as if he had expected the question. "If the Sorcerer King has time to prepare and distance… I don't know."

Perhaps the Sorcerer King could entertain her; Kira, though weak as a bug, was passable in her speed. If the Sorcerer King could evade and retaliate with fatal precision, then this Ainz Ooal Gown would prove to be a competent opponent.

"Get out," Zesshi ordered. "If you don't, I might kill you."

The captain gave a weak smile and left immediately. In his absence, Zesshi looked to the empty area around her. Then slowly, ever so slowly, a maniacal grin stretched across her face. The deadly scythe swung down; the grim reaper had called.

…

Two hours later, just before noon, Zesshi stamped her feet impatiently. She was eager: eager to meet this Sorcerer King, who could hopefully at least come close to her power. Zesshi waited alone in the reception room; she had sent away all the fumbling guides and witless nobles who would ruin the moment with pointless formalities. Decked out in the treasures of the six gods, their armor and weapons, Zesshi awaited her opponent. In less than ten minutes, the Sorcerer King would arrive.

 _In less than ten minutes…_

 _In less than ten minutes…_

Zesshi waved her scythe around impatiently. She weaved it around the furniture and ancient artifacts on display in the room; it would be a pain to get lectured. It defied common sense, how a relatively small girl who appeared to be around the age of fifteen by human standards could carry a heavy scythe the same height as her. To Zesshi, the weapon was like an extension of her arm, one she could effortlessly wield in a single hand.

 _In less than eight minutes…_

Zesshi wondered what the Sorcerer King, Ainz Ooal Gown looked like. Perhaps he would be a tall, overbearing being, as the tales and gossip told. Maybe the Sorcerer King would be a Queen, masked like one of those adamantite adventurers that Zesshi had forgotten the name of. Something-eye? Tyrant's Eye? Zesshi wasn't sure; the captain had assured her that that team, Blue something, was nothing to be concerned about.

 _In less than five minutes…_

Zesshi remembered the words she had told the captain, some months earlier. If the Sorcerer King met her expectations, no matter his age, race, appearance or personality, Zesshi would make sure to get ahold of him in bed. Truly, a combination of her overwhelming strength and the magical prowess of the Sorcerer King, if he lived up to his name, would make for an unstoppable child.

 _In less than a minute…_

A minute? That little? Zesshi calmed herself, at least in appearance. No longer did she swing around wildly, nor did she carry the scythe in a way that could be considered discourteous. Before meeting the Sorcerer King, her first possible equal, Zesshi needed to be polite. A bad impression would be disastrous to her chances of being impregnated, regardless of the match's outcome. Zesshi could hardly wait; she couldn't remember a single moment before when she had been so excited, at least not in the past few centuries.

Zesshi heard the sound of footsteps; they were here. The Sorcerer King was here, and with him came a worthy opponent. Zesshi watched the door carefully as it opened, a wizened old man whose body portrayed strength foreign to his relatively thin frame. Two children, _children,_ followed him, dark elves the lot of them, with odd clothing. The boy wore a full body suit, and the girl a small skirt. They were most likely the Sorcerer King's entourage, perhaps disciples brought along to watch the dual.

Zesshi turned to the old man. "Sorcerer King Ainz Ooal Gown, I-"

"Forgive me, but I am not him," the old man interrupted. "I am Sebas Tian, his excellence's butler. These two are Aura and Mare, similarly serving under the Overlord."

Zesshi scowled. The Sorcerer King wasn't here in person? Were they looking down on her? Surely not; it seemed that this old man, Sebas, had a power of his own that Zesshi could sense just from his presence. Perhaps it was a strategic choice, to avoid the confrontation of Zesshi's pure destructive power and speed against a lone magic caster without a period of time to prepare defensive spells beforehand? Still, it disappointed Zesshi that she couldn't compete against the Sorcerer King.

"So we're fighting?" Zesshi asked. It was practically a rhetorical question; there was no one that could possibly compete with her aside from Sebas.

"No," Sebas said. "Your opponent is Mare, this one."

At Sebas' indication, the girl stood forward anxiously, visibly shivering from Zesshi's mere presence. This girl, Mare, looked as if she could shatter at any moment. If those knees were quivering any faster, they would heat up the whole room. Even Zesshi, who couldn't describe herself as tall, lorded over this pitiful dark elf, sent to her death by the apparently inept Sorcerer King. Zesshi felt a hint of irritation; she had been sorely underestimated.

"Erm, ah, h-h-hel-"

"Shut it," Zesshi hissed. "This way."

The spring was gone from her step; Zesshi had grown bored. Her exercise and frenzied practice had been for naught. The dual would be a piece of cake, and the country of Nazarick was a sham. Killed seventy thousand with a single spell? Please. Anyone that powerful would at least have a semblance of understanding of this _child's_ strength. Was this dual set up not to prevent the Theocracy's losses, but to stop the reverse from happening? This young female dark elf might be a sacrifice to appease the Slane Theocracy.

If Zesshi thought about it that way, it wasn't so abnormal. No matter how disappointed Zesshi was, the fact remained that the bold tales of splendour and power were a farce. Clearly the captain of the Black Scripture, knowledgeable as he was, had been swept up in the rumours and lied unknowingly. The captain's previous analyses had always been accurate, though the odds had been, without fail, always in her favour.

"Faster!" Zesshi barked.

Even before the actual fight began, this weakling trailed behind. A magic caster, Zesshi supposed, and a weak one at that. Mare clung to her thin wooden staff like a life-line, and her limbs looked like they would snap at any moment.

"Ah, s-s-so-"

"Shut up and walk."

"Rude," the other dark elf, Aura, remarked.

Zesshi ignored him; there was no need to pay attention to such unimportant and insignificant beings. It took another minute of silence to reach the destination; a coliseum specially prepared for tournaments of the highest caliber. Zesshi had gone only once before; she had shattered the pride of the five-year reining champion and declined to ever return.

"We're here," Zesshi announced. "Are you ready?"

Mare nodded; the dark elf's entire body seemed to be the very image of frailty.

"Refs!" Zesshi shouted. "Are we okay to begin?"

In order for both sides to return with no complaints, it was necessary for Nazarick and the Slane Theocracy to have representatives watching. For Nazarick, Zesshi supposed that the butler Sebas took that role, whereas for the Theocracy, the captain of the Black Scripture himself stood behind the raised stands with the rest of the scripture.

"I have no objection," the butler said.

"Yes," the captain followed. "I will commence the countdown; both combatants cannot move until the battle has begun, nor will they use martial arts or magic."

"3"

Mare's evident fear almost made Zesshi pity the girl; she had been sent to a losing battle.

"2"

Out of the corner of her eye, Zesshi saw the male dark elf take out some refreshments. Did he actually think this would be an amusing fight? It would be a one-sided beatdown.

"1"

Zesshi tensed her body; she was ready to pounce upon this helpless lamb.

"Fight!"

Zesshi dashed forward, her mighty scythe poised to take the life of the puny girl. The legacies of the six gods glimmered in the early afternoon light, and Zesshi was reminded of the time when she too had been fighting alongside them. Mare wouldn't have the time to cast a single spell, much less scream. Six martial arts activated simultaneously, each in a tier of their own compared to even other members of the Black Scripture. It would be over before the Mare could blink. Or so Zesshi thought.

Then an audible crack resounded in the large stadium. Zesshi felt multiple bones protest, and her legs gave way underneath her. The adamantium helmet which had been left behind by one of the six gods crumpled beneath the blunt of a blunt weapon and forced Zesshi to the ground with a power stronger than anything she had ever felt. In a single hit, Zesshi collapsed onto the ground, her vision blurry, completely and utterly shocked.

"Er... I-I-I'm s-sorry."

Zesshi barely had a chance to glance upwards, beneath the skirt of the one who had downed her, at the hint of what looked like something no girl could ever biologically have. Was Mare a boy?

That was the last thought Zesshi had before the same, flimsy-looking wooden staff descended upon her once more, and the world went dark.

…

When Zesshi came to, the captain of the Black Scripture gave her a look of pity. Zesshi herself wondered why that man looked at her with such an infuriating gaze. It hit her then, the memory of Mare, the girl who might be a boy, the insanely powerful dark elf, who had defeated her without a smidgeon of resistance. No matter how you looked at it, Zesshi had suffered a complete and utter loss in that dual.

"Where is Mare? Have they left yet?"

"No they haven't," the captain said. "They've gone back to their hotel to wait for the Theocracy's public announcement of their surrender. That man, Sebas, healed your skull perfectly. I wasn't sure if you could have been saved."

Zesshi slowly processed this information. Not only was Mare powerful enough to have struck her down in two blows, one faster than even her enhanced speed, but they were of lethal potency. Moreover, the mere butler was skilled enough to fully heal her… this warranted her interest.

"Hey!"

Zesshi ignored the shout and leapt out the window. She knew exactly where the hotel in question was, and with that knowledge, nothing bar someone on par with Mare could stop her. Certainly not that useless captain; he was far too weak to restrain Zesshi. It took two minutes to sprint from the inner holds of the castle to the outer district. Of course, she knew that they were on the third floor; the captain had told her that much only hours earlier.

Fortunately, Zesshi didn't need to do anything as troublesome as jumping through an open window; she caught a glimpse of Mare walking on the street, entirely unaware of what was to come. Zesshi knew that Mare could, with relative ease, subjugate her, but that wasn't important. No, perhaps that was a good thing; if Mare knew that he or she could easily kill Zesshi, then she would get a chance to speak to Mare.

Right on cue, as Zesshi narrowed in for the catch, Mare's heterochromatic eyes shot up in surprise. Yet for whatever reason, the dark elf didn't run, hide, or even attack. It was as if the child wasn't afraid of her, and why would Mare be? Mare had cast her down like a human did elves. Rather, Mare seemed confused as to why Zesshi was even there in the first place. Zesshi dived at Mare's lower body without a trace of bloodlust or ill intent.

"My name is Zesshi, Zesshi Zetsumei."

Zesshi clung to Mare's skirt with all her might and finally confirmed the existence of the entity beneath the breezy fabric. She smiled; there was only one thing left to do.

"Mare, Mare my lord, please give me your seed!"

 **Yes, I just went there. I don't think Mare or Aura quite understand what sex is, going by Ainz's reaction to them seeing lizards mate (entirely accidental), but oh well.**

 **I also assumed that the battle where Ainz curb-stomped everyone would be seen as hyperbole by other nations, because really, with their power standards, who would believe it?**  
 **Naruto would.**

 **On another note, Zesshi has been missing since the fourth volume's intermission... but it would actually be hilarious if she ended up trying to seduce Mare. By her words, it's extremely likely that she'll join Ainz's harem, but I can dream, right?**

 **... That would be a messed up dream; a girl whose appearance portrays her as around fifteen, yet is at least decades old if not centuries trying to hook up with a young-looking dark elf who doesn't understand the reproductive process.**


End file.
